


Holiday

by BrevityIsTheSoulOfLingerie



Series: This Love [6]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:56:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrevityIsTheSoulOfLingerie/pseuds/BrevityIsTheSoulOfLingerie
Summary: Beca surprises Chloe with a vacation. Lots of cake by the ocean...in the ocean...on a balcony with the ocean in the background.Hopefully this makes up for Part 5.





	1. Chapter 1

New York City in July sucks. There’s no two ways about it.  
  
I mean, I love New York. It’s the city that never sleeps, but let me tell you, it’s also the city that isn’t afraid to sweat.  
  
New York City in July is hot and sticky and smelly. The cement, glass and steel is an evil triple threat that makes 93 degrees feel like 193 and nothing, no one, is happy or peaceful. Everyone just wants to get to and stay somewhere cool. Somewhere where there aren’t bodies against bodies, bodies against vinyl seats in cabs with no AC, bodies against metal subway poles that seem to sweat right along with the rest of us, bodies that need to bring an extra shirt to change into after their commute to work.  
  
So, it’s like a mirage in the desert when I walk off the set after a long hot week, and a somehow even longer, hotter Friday to see Julian’s Range Rover, parked along the curb. I can’t get to it fast enough, especially because the car has tinted windows and air conditioning that feels it’s pumped in directly from the Arctic. I half expect him to open the door to the back seat only to have a family of penguins and one or two seals jump out.  
  
This time what - or should I say who - opens the driver’s side door is just as much of a surprise.  
  
“Beca?” While the mere thought of running in this weather makes me sweat, my legs don’t seem to care. Pressing myself against anyone - yes, including Beca - is the last thing on my mind, but my body can’t seem to help itself. Before I know it, I’m wrapped up in her, half laughing, half crying.  
  
It’s been about three weeks since I’ve seen her. When I left LA, things were slowly starting to get back to normal between us. The emails, Skype calls, and -- fine -- an occasional sext since then have helped considerably in making us whole again, but it’s no replacement for physically being together, shedding the last few tatters from the shroud of hurt that had been haunting both of us.  
  
I was afraid Beca would never forgive me for accusing her of cheating. I was afraid that I’d never be able to look at her the same way without the guilt rising up in the back of my throat like bile. But in this moment, all that matters is her resolute, purposeful arms around me and the feelings of calm and comfort that simply scream “Beca” almost as loudly as I did when she popped out of the car.  
  
I’ve forgotten how adorably sexy she is. She’s wearing a pair of checkerboard Vans, no socks, almost-a-dress-code-violation-cut-off jean shorts and a Blondie t-shirt that says, “Call Me.”  
  
The force of my hug knocks her Ray-Ban aviators clean off the top of her head and I can feel that she’s sweating through her shirt, but I’ve never wanted her more. I didn’t really realize how much I missed her until now and I feel a little silly that after all this time we’ve been together, I still fall to pieces each time I see her. I guess Patsy Cline was right.  
  
She pulls back from our hug with a huge smile on her face, “Hi you.”  
  
“Hi. You look hot, babe,” unconsciously licking my lips like a predator.  
  
“I am hot, Chlo. It must be 5,000 degrees here.” She pulls at the neck of her t-shirt, peeling it away from her body.  
  
“You sound surprised. Didn’t you live here for like 10 years?”  
  
“Well, yeah, but every New Yorker knows you don’t leave your apartment in July and August for this very reason. It’s gross.”  
  
“No, no. Gross is riding the subway in this weather.”  
  
“Oh Chlo, you don’t ride the subway when it’s like this.”  
  
“Well, Becs, how the hell are you supposed to get around? Cabs don’t have air conditioning and I’m certainly not walking the 30 blocks between our apartment and the set.”  
  
“Hence my point about not leaving the house, dude. And anyway, you have Julian.”  
  
“I do, which by the way, where is he?” I reach behind my head to gather up all my hair so it’s off my neck, and the way Beca’s eyes rake up and down my body doesn’t go unnoticed. “Becs!” I snap my fingers in front of her to jolt her out of her daze.  
  
She looks up at a me with a muted grunt.  
  
“I’m fine if you want to ogle my goodies, Bec. I’m even OK if you want to touch them, but can we please do it in the comfort of the air conditioned car?”  
  
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Of course.”  
  
Beca rushes to the passenger side door. “I think you’ll find it properly chilled to your liking.” And I swear I see a burst of cold air rush from the car as the door springs open.  
  
“Don’t mind Frosty and Rudolph there in the back seat.”  
  
“Beca?” But she’s already gone around the car to the driver’s side and is buckling her seat belt.  
  
“Chlo, what’s wrong? You’re letting all the cold air out. At the risk of sounding like my dad, we’re not trying to cool all of lower Manhattan.” Though if any car could accomplish that task, it would be this one.  
  
I climb in and shut the door, feeling the chill hit my bare legs and my face. It feels so so good. Of course, then there’s Beca’s warm mouth on my neck and I’m not sure exactly which one sends the chill up my spine.  
  
“Hi,” she says again, peeling her lips from my skin. I see her glance down. “And hello to you two as well,” she smirks. “You know, you’re doing a great impression of Jennifer Aniston on Friends. Too cold for you?”  
  
Beca gets way too much amusement out of her own joke, but I can’t help laugh along with her, even as I cross my arms over my chest.  
  
“You really are like a 13-year old boy, you know? I can’t help that I have sensitive nipples.”  
  
“True, but it IS your fault that your sensitive nipples make me incredibly horny,” Beca says as she reaches across the center console to grab a handful.  
  
I swat her hand away. Despite the refreshing cool of the car, I’m still sweaty and feel gross. “Hey, pre-pubescent boy. Keep it in your pants until we get home.”  
  
“Um, we’re not going home, Chlo.”  
  
“We’re not?”  
  
“No, see that’s why I’m here, not Julian. Unless of course you’d rather him whisk you away for the week.”  
  
There’s a lot to pick apart in Beca’s sentence. “Yeah, why are you here and where are we going for a whole week? I have to be on set, Beca. I’m in the middle of shooting a movie.”  
  
“How about a ‘thank you Beca’?” she says as she flips her blinker and pulls out into traffic.  
  
“Thank you for what? I don’t even know what we’re doing. For all I know, you could be driving us to join some cult in the middle of nowhere.”  
  
“That’s right. That’s what I’m doing, Chlo. We’re joining a religious cult. You’ll have 4 husbands and you can only wear ankle-length skirts. Oh, I almost forgot, you like Kool-Aid, right?”  
  
“You’re a jerk,” I say giving Beca a slight shove.  
  
“Hey, don’t abuse the driver.”  
  
“Seriously Bec. I don’t have any clothes - especially not for a week.”  
  
“Hmm, seems like you’ll just have to be naked then, huh?”  
  
I reach over to smack Beca’s arm again, but she pulls away, jerking the wheel to the left as well, nearly swerving into the other lane.  
  
“Chloe! Keep your hands to yourself!”  
  
“Careful, you might regret that later.”  
  
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take to get us there in one piece.”  
  
“I’ll remember that. And you still haven’t told me where ‘there’ is.”  
  
“There is...there. It’s wherever you want it to be.”  
  
“How philosophical of you. So, what about work?”  
  
“What about it?”  
  
“You said we’re going to be away for a week. I need to be on set on Tuesday.”  
  
“You don’t actually.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Look, just relax, Chlo. Go in the backseat and --”  
  
“You gonna join me?” I whisper in her ear and lick the curve of it, but Beca holds it together surprisingly well.  
  
“I’ll come with you later, hot stuff, in more ways than one,” Beca winks. She’s the only one who can make me giggle like I’m 12 again with an unrelenting crush. “In the meantime, if you pop the cooler, there’s frozen mojito pops and a few other things that I can’t have while I’m driving.”  
  
“Oh Becs, I don’t want to start without you.”  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll have plenty of time to catch up with you once we’re there.”  
  
“And where did you say ‘there’ was again?” I unwrap a popsicle and can immediately smell the mint.  
  
“Nice try, Beale.”  
  
“These are so good, Bec!,” I say, wrapping my lips around one of the frozen concoctions and putting my now-bare feet on the dash.  
  
Beca glances over at me, trying not to stare. Trying -- and failing miserably -- to keep her eyes on the road.  
  
“Shit!”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You look entirely too good doing that.”  
  
“Well, the offer to get into the backseat still stands.” I wrap my lips around the pop again and suck it hard, laughing.  
  
“Dirty.”  
  
I throw a wink in Beca’s direction causing her to huff out a frustrated sigh.  
  
Perhaps as a distraction, she opens the sunroof and turns on a chill playlist, perfect for a midsummer night on the way to…I don’t really care.  
  
I have no idea where we’re going. All I know is, Beca’s hand is on my thigh, her fingers drifting into dangerous territory every now and then -- I guess that’s what I get for teasing her earlier -- and the wind is whipping her hair and I don’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful.  
  
The sun is starting to relent a bit and the breeze from us zipping down the parkway is just shy of feeling completely refreshing. I think the mojito pop does the rest. Maybe too much.  
  
Before I know it, I’m dozing with my head against the window and it seems like no time has passed when Beca is nudging my shoulder.  
  
“Are we there?” I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. It’s getting dark and we’re on a bridge, but I can’t see more than a long string of lights well ahead of us into the distance.  
  
“Not yet. We’re on the causeway. But soon. Smell.” Beca rolls down the windows and I inhale the humid salt air.  
  
“We’re at the beach? Where?”  
  
The wind is whipping through the car and I can barely hear Beca’s answer, which she realizes and rolls up the windows.  
  
“The Jersey shore!”  
  
She looks so excited, so I try not to reveal my distaste when I clarify. “Wait, do you mean Snooki-JWoww-GTL Jersey shore?”  
  
“I knew you were going to say that. No. Not quite, though it’s not far from here. Would you rather go there?”  
  
I shake my head, feeling relieved.  
  
“We’re at a much quieter part of the Jersey shore. Remember I told you my parents had a house here?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Well, they aren’t using it this week because they’re in Europe, so I asked if we could crash here.”  
  
“Oh my god. This is amazing.”  
  
I lean over and reach around Beca’s neck with my right arm, pulling her hard into a kiss. “Ch-Chlo, baby. Still driving here, dude.” She lifts my hand under hers and brings it to her lips.  
  
The smile that she shoots my way makes my head spin with how much I love her. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.  
  
“I’m happy you’re happy. Oh, and just for the record, I am totally DTF this weekend.”  
  
“I expect nothing less.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Beca’s parents’ house is just short of a mansion - oceanfront, 7 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms and a pool.

Luxurious doesn’t even begin to describe it, which is why the outdoor shower seems so out of place.  Yet, Beca shows it off like a badge of honor.

“There are showers inside too, of course,” she says, when she realizes I don’t quite rise to the level of her excitement.  “Like, take your pick which one you want to use or use all of them, but they can’t handle all of the sand that people bring in from the beach and the sunscreen is bad for them too, which is why the outside shower is ideal.  I never shower anywhere else when I’m here.” 

“Really?”

“Even in the dead of winter.  Just promise me you’ll at least try it and if you hate it, you can go back to the inside shower of your choice.  I’ll even join you out here, just to sweeten the deal.”

“I think I already have a pretty sweet deal right here.” I slide my arms over Beca’s shoulders and press a kiss to her lips.   “Now, show me your room.”

“Gladly.”

We take the elevator to the third floor and I follow her down to the end of the hallway.  Her room has a massive king-size bed and an en suite bathroom with a huge shower and an even bigger tub.  But the best part is the huge windows that overlook a balcony and beyond that, the ocean.

I’m immediately drawn to the view, even though the sun is setting over the bay behind us.  It’s made even better when Beca comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. “Is this OK?”

I turn to face her. “Which part?”

“Well, all of it, but mostly this,” she says as she glances down to her hands on my stomach.”

I lean my head back on her shoulder and run my hands over hers, lacing our fingers together.  “I missed you.”

She nuzzles my cheek and I sigh into it, turning to face her before she pulls back to rest her head between my shoulder blades.  “I missed you too. A lot.”

“Happy?”

I feel her nod against me.  “Happy. And hungry!”

“Me too.”

“Good.  I know I really good place right on the water.”

“Sold. Let’s go!”

XXX

 

It’s finally cooled down a bit and the sea breeze makes it actually enjoyable to be outside.  The cold G&T’s at a divey but delicious place called Pinky’s on the Dock help too.

Beca reaches across the table to take my hand in hers and her eyes lock on to mine.

“I love you, you know.”

“I don’t know why, after everything that happened between us.”

“That is exactly _why_ I love you, Chlo.  You’re human. An imperfect, fallible, wonderful human who feels so much and who loves me enough to fight for me, even when there are bigger things at stake.”

“What is bigger than you, babe?”

Beca pauses and looks at me expectantly before continuing.  “What? I was waiting for the short joke.” I only shake my head and look down at my fingers. “Wow, no short joke?  You must be serious.”

“I am serious.  There is nothing in this world that’s bigger or more important than you, Beca.”

“Sure there is.”

“What?”

“You.”

“Me?”  


“Yes, you.  Your heart. Your feelings.  Your trust. The way you so readily handed over those things to me without any expectations or conditions.   I took advantage of that. I took you for granted and I hate myself for it.”

“You shouldn’t hate yourself.  I don’t.”

“Hence my point about your willingness to just love with reckless abandon.”

“Let me show you reckless abandon.”   I grip Beca’s hands as I stand up and pull her across the table to press a firm, sure kiss to her lips.

By the time we make it back to the beach house, it’s late.  We’re drunk, despite eating what I think might have been all the shrimp in the sea, and we’re horny.  

Beca leads the way into the house and into the elevator, her hand holding mine which is draped over her shoulder.  When she stops short, I run into her back, my hands accidentally gripping her boobs to stop her from toppling over.

“Chloe, if you want to cop a feel just ask, dude.”

“Fine.  I want to cop a feel.”   I squeeze her ample chest and start to thumb her nipples through her shirt.  

Beca groans and lolls her head back on my shoulder, craning her neck to kiss me.  We’re tipsy. The kiss is sloppy, but it’s no less a turn-on and by the time the elevator comes to a stop, Beca’s shirt and bra is on the floor and my mouth is on her.

I back her down the hallway to our room, my hands curled around her ribs.  I’m kissing her lips, her neck, her chest as we fumble through the doors and towards the bed.  She collapses onto the mattress and I follow close behind, unbuttoning my shirt as she cups my cheeks and pulls me to her.

Before I know what hits me, Beca flips us so I’m on my back.  She’s on her side next to me, her fingertips dancing feather light touches across my stomach.  I watch her. She knows that what she’s doing right now -- where she’s touching me, how she's touching me is a major turn-on.  To me, it’s such an intimate gesture, but not in a sexual way. It’s soft and tender. It’s Beca making me vulnerable and then taking her time with me and taking care of me. I love being like this with her, surrendering myself to her.

She’s watching me.  Watching my eyes as I track her movements.  Her hand flattens across my abs. I sink into the warm press of her palm against me, exhaling as she lies down next to me, face to face.

I've missed the feel, the warmth, the solid, reassuring presence of her body next to mine these past few weeks -- physically of course, but the emotional closeness that had taken longer is now slowly creeping back up over us as our little world starts to right itself again.

Her hand curves around my hip, pulling me into her-- my leg lolling over her waist --  until there is only a sliver of air between us. I'm reminded of how well we fit together, like we were made for each other. Her eyes flick to my lips and then back to my gaze.  I know what she wants but she hesitates. She’s holding back, but all I can think about is how badly I need to feel her lips on mine. How badly I need to feel her.

“Beca, baby.” I whisper, trailing a finger down her jawline and across her collarbone.

She pulls back to look at me.

“Kiss me.”

Beca’s lips are easy, slow and gentle, maybe even hesitant.  It reminds me of our very first kiss in her hotel room -- so unexpected, both the kiss itself and how Beca felt against me. It was like I’d imagined 10,000 times before and yet completely new.

Our lips still pressed together, she slides her hand up my body and trails it back down the underside of my arm, linking our hands to bring my wrist up to her mouth.  She bites the taut tendon there before retracting her teeth and sucking on my pulse point.

I roll to my back, pulling her with me, and in one fluid motion, she’s straddling my hips and tugging up the hem of my shirt.

Her back is bowed as she leans down to lick the dip between my ribs, dragging her tongue until it's halted by the underside of my bra.  

She sits up on my lap and draws me up to her with one arm.  Beca may be petite, but she’s solid and strong as she holds me in place.  She reaches around with her other arm to free my breasts and then releases me back to the mattress, never taking her eyes off me as I fall away from her.  I expect that she’ll follow to kiss me but she doesn’t. Instead, I feel a bounce on the mattress and Beca is gone.

I prop myself up on my elbows, watching her walk around the foot of the bed, to the French doors that open on to the balcony.  She doesn’t say anything -- just crooks a finger at me, beckoning me to join her.

“Beca…”

“It’s OK, Chlo.  No one can see. I promise.

As if to prove her point, she whips off her shorts and tosses them on to the bed.  “C’mere.”

I swing my legs around to the other side of the mattress and hop off, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself, but I don’t get to enjoy the modesty for too long.  

Beca meets me in the doorway and palms my hips before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of my skirt, dropping it to the floor.  I’m left in only a light blue thong and, while I’ve been with Beca for a long time now, I congratulate myself on following through on the fortuitous decision to do a little, um, personal grooming last night.  

She guides me onto the balcony.  It’s big enough for two lounge chairs but Beca stays close, pulling me between her and the railing. Her arms are around me again.  

The moon is full, casting a bright glow over the water.  It’s quiet -- the only sounds in the air are our breathing, the waves crashing and Beca’s lips gently sucking and kissing the skin on my back,  shoulders and neck.

I pull my hair over my shoulder and Beca traces her fingers up my sides, making me shiver.

“Beca, baby…”

She freezes.  

“I’m all sweaty and gross from earlier.  Maybe we should shower first before we - “

Beca turns us, caressing my cheeks with her thumbs.  “I don’t care. You taste amazing. All of you. Always.”

Her eyes lock on mine and I notice her pupils are blown wide, eyes dark with desire and reflecting the moonlight, but I don’t have time to hold her gaze for long before she’s kissing between my breasts.

My nipples tighten on instinct -- a reaction from the cool breeze and Beca’s touches that soon turn to sucking.

I throw my head back as she cups my left breast in her hand, massaging it, while she takes the nipple of my right breast into her mouth, wrapping her lips around it, twirling her tongue around it.  I arch into the sensation, pushing myself further into Beca.

Her arm snaps around my waist, holding me close to her, as she lavishes the same treatment on my right breast.  She drops her other arm to my side, hand on my lower back before both trail down to grab my ass, which draws a squeak from me.  

Beca smiles against my breast.  I feel her chuckle and lightly smack the top of her head.  

“Hey!” she straightens up so that we’re face to face.  “I’m working here.”

“Shut up.”  My hand grips the back of Beca’s neck and I pull her into a hot, deep kiss -- my tongue licking at and twisting with hers.  

She tastes like the G&Ts we’d been drinking all night mixed with the humid salt air that’s unavoidable here.  It’s intoxicating.

Beca drops into the lounge chair next to us, guiding me towards her, her hand on my hip to steady me as she pulls the fabric between my legs off to the side.  She runs her fingers through tight curls to my pussy lips, spreading them gently, and I watch her mouth slowly move to take their place, but I step back slightly before she connects with my clit.  

I hear her moan, but the moan turns into a deep growl when I step out of my thong and toss it back into the bedroom.  Then, I’m back in front of her, standing with my legs slightly apart to give her better access.

She dips her head to tease my clit with her tongue as I weave my fingers through her soft brown waves.  I jerk back and can’t help the whimper that escapes my lips. “Oohhh, sensitive baby.”

Beca says nothing. She simply stands and, gently gripping my shoulders, guides me down on to the chair, so that she can settle on top of me, in between my legs.  For a moment, we’re both motionless. It gives me a chance to take her all in -- so much sexy in such a little package, with toned abs and the cutest little pair of boy shorts. I just want to grab her and kiss her all over.  But, before I can act, she hitches her leg over my hips and pins my arms on either side of my head.

With her nose, she nudges my head to one side, exposing my neck and nipping at my ear lobe. Her voices is almost as soft as the breeze off the ocean when she leans into me and whispers, “I want to make love to you.”

The sticky, pulsing heat of the city that we left behind earlier today could never melt me the way those words do, the feel of her soft lips on my skin, the weight of her body on mine and the press our hips against each other.  

Her hand slides down between us, palm flat against me leaving a burning trail in its wake and I part my legs under her.  Fingers pause at my clit to tease, then rub, before they continue down.

A finger tip dips into me, withdraws, and then I feel two of her slender fingers pushing inside me.   “More, baby. I need more.” She easily adds a third and starts to set a pace, thrusting and rocking her whole body on top of me.

I expect Beca to eventually go faster.  Harder. She knows that’s what gets me off, but this time is different.  Beca is taking her time. It’s slow and deep. I bend my legs and shift my hips, forcing her to change the angle of her arm, her hand, her fingers, to push in even deeper.  To curl inside me. Her palm hitting and rolling my clit with every stroke.

Everything is dark is around us except the skin on Beca’s shoulders -- the sheen of sweat on her body set aglow by the moon hanging in front of me.  It almost feels like the moment before you black out -- the tunnel vision, tunnel hearing, where everything is muffled and muted except the one thing that’s keeping you conscious.

I’m lost in the rhythm of the waves, curling, crashing and ebbing.  Curling. Crashing. Ebbing. Curling. Crashing. Ebbing. Over. And. Over.   

My pussy is drenched and throbbing. My back is arched and I’m panting, needing to come so badly.  

It’s then I realize Beca is fucking me in time with the waves rolling and breaking on the shore.  

“Oh, god.”  

That’s all it takes for orgasm starting to build inside me.  The pressure between my legs. The pressure on my hips. Unbearable.

“Beca…Becs...I - ” I can't keep still underneath her and the heat of her body isn't doing much to help. 

I know she knows.  She can read my body, but even if she couldn’t there’s no way she wouldn’t notice how I clench and contract around her fingers.

I come hard. It washes over me, forcing Beca out.  She watches me as she brings her hand to her lips and sucks my juices clean.

I could come again, just at the sight of her lips wrapped around her fingers, the way her tongue flicks between her lips and how her neck tightens when she sucks on each digit, hard and slow.

“I can’t get enough of the way you taste.”  That fast, her head is between my legs again, licking me dry and swirling her tongue over my swollen clit, sending another surge through me.  

“Jesus Christ, Beca.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through the vacation smut. Everyone doing all right?

Beca’s leg rests atop the duvet cover, but the rest of her is buried in the blankets.  She looks...god, I can’t fall any more in love with this girl and it pains me to unwrap myself from her, but I know if I don’t get my workout in now, when it’s early and relatively cool, I won’t want to do it in the heat of the day.   

Always thoughtful, Beca made sure to pack my yoga mat and workout clothes on this vacation, so I head up to the roof deck.  From here, I can see the ocean, the sun just popping up over the horizon, and my thoughts drift to last night. They make me blush and I feel a warm heat between my legs.  I’m so tempted to run back downstairs and return the favor, but it’s Beca’s vacation too. She deserves to sleep in and I know there will be plenty of time throughout the week to make her feel good. 

I go through my workout and am starting my cool down when I feel icy wet between my shoulder blades, followed by a kiss on my temple.   I turn to find Beca squatting next to me with two smoothies - something dark purple for her and “A green monster for you, babe.”

“I thought you were sleeping?”

“Well, I was, but there’s this great juice bar down the block and I thought you might like a smoothie.” 

Beca puts both cups on a nearby table and offers me her hands to help me stand.  As soon as I’m level with her, I pull her to me and kiss her cheek. “Thank you, baby.  This great.” 

“It’s gonna be another scorcher today,” says Beca checking her phone as we sip our drinks.  

“What’s the plan?” 

“Eh, I thought we’d sit in the house and play video games.”

I start to protest, but Beca laughs, leans over and silences me with a kiss.  “Breakfast is downstairs - fruit, yogurt, granola. I can also make veggie omelettes if you want.  And then I thought we’d go to the beach.” 

“I love that plan!” 

“Cool.  There’s only one problem.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I kind of forgot to pack you a bathing suit so…”  Beca shrugs like it’s no big deal, takes her smoothie and starts down the stairs.  

“Wait a minute.” I grab the back of her shirt unsure about whether she’s kidding or serious and if she did it on purpose or by accident.  “You knew we were coming to the beach and you forgot to pack my bathing suit?” 

“Yeah, so, um…sorry, I guess?” she winks and walks into the house without looking back.    

“You  _ guess _ ?”  I’m hot on her trail, following her into the bedroom.  “Beca.” 

She keeps walking. 

“Beca Mitchell!” 

She finally turns to me, “Yes?”  And I can’t decide if I want to kiss or smack that smirk off her cute face.  

“Did you really not pack any bathing suits for me?” 

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t, Chlo.  But….” She reaches into the bag she packed for me. “I do have this very colorful piece of dental floss.”  She holds up one of my bikinis. “Or this one.” She holds up another. 

“Jerk,” I say, pushing her back and grabbing both from her. 

“Oh wait.  Are those your bathing suits?  My bad. They don’t leave much to the imagination, you know?” 

“Your imagination is about all you’re going to have, Mitchell.”  I start to strip off my shorts and sports bra.

“OK, OK.  Well, what if I offer to put sunscreen on you?”

“I’ll think about it.” 

“You do that and let me know.” I feel Beca’s hands on my shoulders, drifting over my biceps, down my arms and back up my sides.  “I’m very good with my hands, you know.” She places a kiss on my neck with just the right amount of suction to make my knees buckle and then leaves the room, closing the door behind her. 

 

XXX

 

I sneak up on Beca who is standing in the kitchen, dressed in flip-flops, board shorts and a bikini top. She’s head down, doing something on her phone, and I squeeze her sides making her yelp. 

She turns and I get great satisfaction in watching her jaw drop to the floor as I wrap my arms around her.   “You may be great with your hands, Becs, but I’m good with my tongue.” I lick a trail from her neck, to her jawbone and over lips.  Then, I tap her ass, cupping a cheek. “Now, where do we keep the towels?” 

“Wait, wait.” She grabs my wrist and pulls me back to her.  “You can’t come waltzing in here dressed like that, say those things and then leave.”

“I’m flattered.  You like?” I’m wearing a simple black and white bikini with a flowy white cover up tied around my waist.  

Beca takes my hands and puts them on her shoulders, staring deep into my eyes.  “DId this take you long to put on?” she asks, gesturing to my swimsuit.

“No. Why?” 

“Good!”  She pushes me on to the couch and before I know it Beca is kneeling in front of me, pulling my bottoms to the side.  My hand is in her hair and I wrap my legs around her head as she tongues my clit. Even without any kind of warm up, I come in record time and then Beca is licking and kissing my inner thighs.  But I push her away. “If we don’t stop, we’re never going to make it to the beach today. Let’s go.” 

 

XXX

 

The beach is crowded, but with enough space that no one is piled on top of us, so we’ve got a good perimeter of privacy.  Beca’s also brought one of those huge beach umbrellas with the fold-down sides, so we can basically create a tent. Beca says it’s good for shade, but I’m thinking of far more exciting possibilities.  After all, who doesn’t enjoy a little cake by the ocean?

I do let Beca rub sunscreen, well, pretty much anywhere she wants because the make-up people will kill me if I come back even a shade darker and because I burn easily.  But mostly because I can never get enough of her hands on my body.

We spend the morning reading -- Beca is lying on a towel, pouring over something on her Kindle, and I am tucked into her side, looking at scripts for my next movie, my leg crossed over hers and my hand on the small of her back. 

Eventually, Beca starts to get antsy.  “What’s wrong, babe?” Her fidgeting thankfully distracts me from a pretty awful script treatment.  

“I’m tired of just sitting here.  Let’s go for a walk.” 

“Sure. Anywhere specific?”  

“There’s a sandwich place a few beaches down.  We could grab lunch and bring it back.” 

“You really do know the way to my heart,” I say as I stand up and stretch.  Beca ducks her head to kiss my cheek, slips her hand into mine and leads us down closer to the water.  Between the breeze coming off the ocean and the cool waves, I’m instantly refreshed. 

“Thank you.”   
  
Beca turns.  “For what?” 

“Bringing me here.  You’re always so full of surprises.  I love you.” 

Beca pecks my nose.  “I love you too and I’m happy you’re happy.” 

“I am.  But - “

“Uh-oh…the dreaded but.” 

“But...I still don’t understand how I don’t need to be on set on Tuesday.  We’re already behind. I can’t believe Jimmy agreed to the time off.” 

“Uh, well…” she hesitates, suddenly finding her bare feet fascinating.

“Oh, Beca.  What did you do?”

“Let’s just chalk it up to an acting exercise.  Like an improv.”    
  
“Beca.  What did you do?” I ask again. 

“I might have told Jimmy that your great grandma Kit passed away at 103 and you were very close.  You’re devastated and you need the time off.” 

“But I don’t have a great grandma Kit.”

“I know, but you can cry on cue, so…” 

Before Beca can finish, and before I can even get mad at her -- though I never really could over something like this -- I hear a soft grunt, a splash, and then a little kid’s cry.  I look down to see Beca fishing a little girl of about 4 out of the shallow water in front of her. 

“Hey cutie,” she says picking her up and drying her tears.  “Are you OK?” 

The little girl clings to Beca, sobbing and hiding her eyes.  Beca moves her hands from her face and asks again, “Are you hurt?” 

She shakes her head ‘no’ and Beca pokes her tummy, making her giggle.  “There we go! You have a really pretty smile, and I love your bathing suit.”

“Thank you,” says the little girl, burying her head in Beca’s shoulder.  

I see what must be the girl’s mother rushing over and Beca taps the girl’s back to get her to look. “Is that Mommy?” she asks, pointing.

“Uh-huh,” says the girl reaching out her arms to the other woman.

Beca hands the girl back to her mother.  “I think she’s OK. She just ran headlong into me.” 

“I’m really sorry,” says the mom.  Then, turning her attention to her daughter, “Violet, sweetie, you have to watch where you’re going.” 

The mom does a double-take when she notices me, but thankfully doesn’t give me away, save for a knowing smile.  

“Don’t worry about it,” says Beca. “I’m just glad she’s not hurt.  Beca looks at the little girl again. “It was nice meeting you, Violet.  Have a fun day!” She waves. Violet smiles and waves back and we’re on our way again. 

I slip my hand into Beca’s.  “You were so sweet with her.” 

“You sound surprised.” 

“I guess I’ve just never seen you with kids before, though I shouldn’t be shocked. You’re one big kid yourself.”  Beca quirks an eyebrow at me. “What? I think it’s cute and charming.” 

“Well, as long as you approve.” 

We’re silent for a bit longer before Beca speaks up again.  “I like that name.” 

“Violet?” 

“Yeah, I’d consider that if we ever had a daughter.  Violet Beale.”

“You think about that?  About having kids?  With me?”

“You don’t?  I mean, how great would it be to have a mini-Chloe running around?” 

“And a little Beca.” 

“I don’t know if the world can handle another one of me.” 

“You’re right. You’re one of a kind.” I squeeze her hand as we enter the restaurant, my stomach rumbling. 

 

XXX

 

“Chlo, 30 minutes.  The rule is you have to wait to swim until 30 minutes after you’ve eaten.”   
  
“It’s hot as hell out here, and I’m pretty sure that’s an old wives tale.  Plus, I never really figured you’d be such a stickler for the rules. It’s like I’m at the beach with my mom.” 

“Fine.  Do what you want, but if you cramp..” 

“I’m only going to dip my feet in Becs. If I get a cramp just from that, I have bigger problems.”  I stand up and undo my cover-up, tossing it on Beca’s head. “Join me?”

Beca pulls the fabric off her face and shakes her head “no.” 

“Suit yourself.” 

I know she’s propped up on her elbows watching me wade at the water’s edge, and I’ll admit, I love being the focus of Beca’s hungry, but loving gaze.  It makes me feel wanted. Sexy. I glance back to our towels to waggle my fingers at her, but she’s gone. 

My eyes stay trained on that spot, wondering where she could have gotten to in mere seconds.  Then, before I even register the arms around my torso, I’m soaked. “Beca!” 

She’s next to me in the water, pushing wet hair back from her eyes and laughing.  I pounce on her, wrapping my legs around her hips and my arms around her neck. “You are so fucking lucky you’re cute.” 

Her lips taste like chapstick and salt water and summer.  I feel her hands on my back and then her arms, pulling my body into hers.  I moan into the kiss, leaving ample opportunity for her tongue to find its way into my mouth and stroke my tongue.  

Slowly, we’re drifting further out.  Beca ducks us under a wave to move us past the breakers where the water is still. We both break the surface smiling, mouths still attached until we’re out of breath.

My forehead is on Beca’s as I push the hair out of her face. “You are so beautiful”  I kiss her again, innocently, but then Beca changes her angle and it soon turns heated.

Her hands drift from my back to under my thighs, keeping me afloat  as she dips us further down into the water, leaving only our necks and heads exposed.  She pushes me back from her, creating space between us and unwraps one arm from me, bringing it down between us.  Her eyes don’t leave mine as I feel her fingers slip under the waistband of my bikini bottoms. 

I press into her hand and a slight moan escapes my lips as I start to rock against her.  I bring my lips to her ear. “You always know how to touch me.”   
  
“Mmm.  Feel good?”

I nod, thankful that the waves drown out my soft grunts.  

“What else do you like, babe?” she asks against my lips. 

Her fingers massage my clit and I can do little else but loll my head back.  She takes that as an invitation to nip my neck.

“I need more baby.”  Beca starts to rub me faster, but I grab her wrist.  “In-inside. I need you inside. Please.”

She turns me so that my back is pressed into her front and repositions her hand so that she can slip two fingers inside me.  Her other arm is tight across my stomach and she’s careful to keep us under the water, so that the motion of her arm -- and my entire body -- isn’t evident to anyone else. 

I wrap my legs backwards around Beca’s hips and dig my heels into her butt so that I can push myself further down onto her fingers.  I feel her deep, deep inside as her other hand dips down into my bottoms to rub my clit. 

My head falls back to her shoulder and I turn so that I can kiss her.  “You’re so so bad.” I mumble. 

Beca laughs and changes the angle of her arm in response, which makes me gasp sharply.  Now, she’s no longer thrusting, but massaging, her strokes matching each roll of my clit.  The sensation is almost too much to bear and then I feel her slip a third finger in. 

I’m so full.  “Oh my fucking god.  I can’t. Please, just let me come, Beca.” 

“You’re so tight,” she breathes into my hair.

I nod.

“And you feel so good. I love you like this.”    


I bring my legs back together, squeezing them and her hand in between my thighs to add to the friction.  

“Come on baby.  Come for me.”   
  
All it takes is for her to massage my clit between her two fingers for one final roll and I feel my walls flutter around her and then clench as I come.  She strokes me down over my bikini bottoms and, once I’ve regained composure, floats us slowly shore.

I’m completely spent as I collapse on to the towels. “What are you doing to me?”

Beca lies down next to me and tucks her arm under my head, pulling me to her.  “Tell me if you want to stop, babe. I can’t help that you turn me on every time I look at you, but I’ll try.”

“Don’t you dare.”  I want to smack her, but am too wiped out deliver anything more than a lame pat on her chest. 

She laughs and with her other hand, turns on the Bluetooth speaker. I think I make it through half of the first song - I think it’s “Wanted” by Hunter Hayes,” before I drift off to sleep, feeling Beca’s slow, even breaths on my shoulder. 


	4. Chapter 4

The heat today is just as punishing as it was yesterday, so we again seek refuge on the beach.

 

I’m sitting in a beach chair, my feet in the sand, talking to my manager and trying to sound broken up over the fake death of fake great grandma Kit.  Beca is sitting in the sand, lounging between my legs, her head on my stomach, arms resting on my thighs and snickering as she eavesdrops on my end of the conversation. 

 

“Thanks Aubrey for calling.  Yes, I will pass along your condolences to the rest of the Beales.  OK. Love you and I’ll see you in a few days.” 

 

I disconnect the call and smack Beca’s shoulder.  She spins to face me. “Ow!” 

 

“I’m going to kill you.  The entire production thinks I’m in mourning.” 

 

“You’re the star of that movie, Chlo.  You can do whatever you want.” She’s turned to kneel in front of me, her hands gripping my thighs, thumbs absently skimming over the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, daring dangerously close to another roll in the hay...or sand.  She really has no idea what her touch does to me. It’s so damn hot, but she still manages to make me shiver.

 

I still her hands with mine. “I don’t want to be that kind of person, Becs.  I take my job seriously. I know I’m not a brain surgeon. I’m an actress, but I respect the amount of work that goes into making a movie.  Not just from me, but from everyone and I don’t think it’s fair that I just decide on a whim to take a vacation.”   
  


Beca looks genuinely hurt. “I’m sorry.  You’re right. I just wanted to get you out of the city and spend some time with you.  It was hell in LA without you. I missed you and - “

 

My lips on Beca’s cut her off and she lies back on the sand, taking me with her, so I’m straddling her hips. 

 

I sit up and push my hair back, out of my face so that I can look at Beca.  I smooth my thumbs over her cheeks. “I’m not mad, babe. I love that you decided to steal me away.  I just don’t want to get into the habit of blowing off my work.” 

 

Beca presses herself up on her elbows.  “It was a one-time thing, Chlo. I promise.  Just one of my crazy whims.” 

 

I dip back down to kiss her, my hair shrouding both of us.  “Funny. I have those too.” I push Beca back, flat onto the sand, and she raises an eyebrow at me as I start to unlace her board shorts.  

 

We’re safe from prying eyes, mostly, thanks to the hybrid umbrella-tent that Beca wisely thought to bring.  The only people who could possibly see what we’re getting up to are those in the ocean, but they’re too far away to really discern that my thumbs have hooked into the waistband of Beca’s bottoms and are slowly drawing them down below her hips. 

 

“Chloe,” Beca is already breathing heavily and I haven’t even done anything.  Yet. She looks so sexy.

 

I watch her as I slide my hand up through the leg hole of her shorts and start to play with her pussy, thumbing her clit and trailing my fingers up and down her slit.  

 

Beca’s hands snap to her breasts, over top of her bikini top.  When I glance up again, she’s moved the cups up, exposing her nipples as she tugs and rolls them.  

 

Her eyes drift closed and her back reflexively arches off the sand.  

 

“Show me,” I say.  

 

“Huh?”  her eyes snap open.

 

“Show me how you like it. How you want it.” 

 

Beca doesn’t waste any time sliding one hand down the front of her shorts to meet my hand.  She grabs my fingers and pulls them to rub tight circles over her clit. I feel her get wetter and wetter underneath my touch and then she pushes my hand down, abandoning my fingers so that she can slide one of her own inside.  

 

I sit back between her legs and watch her fuck herself, until I can’t not touch her anymore.  I lie next to her, pressing my breasts into her side and hooking my leg over her hip with a sigh.  My hand follows the path of her arm all way down until I feel the radiating heat of her pussy. She starts to pull her hand back, but I hold her in place, guiding her finger back in.  Mine follows closely behind. 

 

“Oh fuuuuck,” Beca groans out as she realizes we’re both inside her, and there’s something extremely and unexpectedly erotic about our wet fingers caressing each other and feeling Beca at the same time.   

 

I follow Beca’s motions - each thrust, each flutter, each stoke.  With her other hand, Beca pushes her shorts further down to give us more room to maneuver.  

 

I’m mesmerized by being inside Beca  _ with  _ Beca, watching us move together, but it’s not long after that when I notice that she’s almost bare between her legs.  I quirk an eyebrow at her and she smiles. “The sensation is just - everything is so much more sensitive.” She bites her lip, awaiting my reaction.

 

It’s a statement that I just can’t let go untested.  I dip my head and extend my tongue so just the tip touches her clit.  I play with it for a bit and, when it’s swollen, blow a long breath over it.  Beca jerks with abandon. “Oh my -- Chlo!” When I swoop down again, I lick over her clit to the top of her pussy with the flat of my tongue, wrenching her hips up off the blanket, which is soaked beneath her. 

 

We’ve been playing and teasing for the better part of an hour and I can tell that Beca is starting to lose her mind.  She can’t keep still and is desperate for more friction that will relieve the pressure.

 

I have to really resist the urge to climb on top of her and fuck her with my pussy, which has already begun dripping noticeably down my thighs.  

 

Or do I?

 

While still lavishing attention on Beca, I manage to wiggle free of my bikini bottoms and I position myself between her legs, as I slowly withdraw my hand. 

 

I lean into Beca. “Pull out, baby,” I say, startling her back to reality.  

 

“Chlo, wha -?”

 

“Move your hand.  I need to have my pussy on you.  Now.” 

 

She spreads her lips with one hand and parts me with the other as I fit us together.  When my hot, hard clit connects with hers, it’s like fireworks. When I start to rock against her, it’s euphoric.  I can’t get enough of the way she feels. 

 

Riding Beca might be my favorite position. 

 

She grips my hips to guide me through the motions.  I palm her breasts, loving the way her nipples rise to my touch.  I can see the grimace of overwhelming pleasure on her face. 

 

“Becs, you close?” 

 

“Yes, baby.  So close.” Her eyes are closed, lips parted.  Panting. “Come with me?” 

 

She thrusts her hips up into mine and I grind more firmly into her, dragging myself up and down her slit.  Her clit is literally throbbing against mine and the sensation overtakes me. 

 

I start to rub myself with one hand and Beca with the other to get us there quickly.  Together.

 

I tense and come on Beca’s pussy but I continue to rub myself on her until she orgasms mere seconds later, relishing the strong aftershocks.  

 

Beca wraps her arms around me and the feel of her hands on my back, her legs smoothing against mine, is that much more pleasurable now that all of our senses are heightened. 

 

“Chloe, that was...I don’t know...Just - just come here.” 

 

“Let’s maybe, um,  get dressed first before we get comfy.”

 

“Holy shit.  How bad is it that I forgot we were in public?”  She sits up and looks around, trying to gauge if anyone’s noticed.  When it seems like no one is the wiser, she shrugs, “Eh,” and reaches for her bottoms. 

 

She pulls up her shorts and I roll on to my side, fumbling behind me for my bikini bottoms.

 

I laugh as Beca threads her fingers through my hair pulling me close.  We’re lying on our sides, facing one another, my thigh in between Beca's legs, her arm is wrapped around comfortably around my waist with the palm of one hand pressed into my lower back. The other is splayed across my chest until I grip it in mine.

 

I let myself get lost in the face I know so well.  The sun has brought out a permanent blush on her nose and cheeks and my entire chest constricts with how unflinchingly in love I am with her.  Looking at her, curled into me, I am in awe of how any one person can churn up this much emotion and how it all manages to fit without tearing me apart.

 

We're comfortably quiet.  “Lost in Space” by Emmit Fenn plays on the bluetooth. My fingers tangle lightly in the baby curls at the back of Beca's neck.

 

She sighs heavily, it's neither contented nor happy.

 

My eyes flutter open, startled.  "Babe?"

 

"I'm...I'm sorry, Chlo." Beca sits up and presses her hands to her eyes.

 

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"  The apology has sprung from nothing.  It was just a few short minutes ago, that we were writhing against each other.  Feeling close and connected. I came on her pussy for chrissakes, and I know for sure she's not apologizing about that.  I push myself up so I’m sitting next to her and wrap my fingers gently around her wrists, tugging her hands away so I can see her face. "What's going on in that head of yours, hmm? Talk to me."

 

She leans forward, bowing her head into my chest.  I pull her closer and run my fingers through her hair.  I barely hear her when she says it: "The whole Maddie thing."

 

"You really want to talk about that?  Now?" 

 

"I can't get past it.  Every time I look at you, I - " 

 

"What, baby?" I crook a finger under her chin and tilt her head up to look at me.  "You what? What's wrong?" 

 

"I - I - you know...you have to know it was nothing, right? Maddie was - I didn't feel anything for her.  I didn't encourage her or lead her on. And it still, um, hurts that you'd think I would do that to you. That I could hurt you like that."  Beca's eyes are watery, but doesn't shy away from my gaze, which is unlike her, so I know I know she's not hiding. "I never would. You’re too important to me." 

 

"I do know that  Believe me I do. And I'm sorry too."  Her eyes widen in surprise. "Yeah, it wasn't just you, Becs.  I should have come to you sooner with how I was feeling to give you a chance to explain.  And I definitely shouldn't have second guessed you because I know you, and I know you wouldn't ever cheat." 

 

"Then why?" she pleads, unable to hold back a hard sniffle, and my heart breaks.

 

"I think I just had a moment of weakness.  Self-doubt, maybe. I don't know. I guess I worry that maybe you're going to get tired of me being away all the time or get annoyed that I have to kiss guys or something.  I don't know. I'm just - I'm so in love with you Beca..."

 

She reaches up to caress my cheeks with her thumbs and brings our foreheads together.  "God, Chloe, I'm so in love with you too."

 

I mirror the position of her hands as a tear breaks loose.  "This - you and I have such a good, beautiful thing and I guess I'm just worried it's going to be ripped out from under me." I don't even try to stop the hiccup.  " That you'll leave me."

 

"What?"  She shakes her head in disbelief.  "How could you...I mean, look at you. You're gorgeous.  You're perfect. How could you think I'd want anyone else?"  

 

I thumb away a tear that's rolling down her cheek, leaving a desperate-looking Beca in its wake.

 

"It happens, Becs." I say tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, our foreheads still pressed together.  "Right under our eyes and before we even know it." She looks up at me. Questioning. Searching. "I don't think we ever talked about it, but when I was starting out, my boyfriend cheated on me." 

 

"Oh god. I didn't know. I didn't..." She tangles and  untangles her fingers through mine and I squeeze her hands to still her and reassure her.

 

"And he got the other girl pregnant." 

 

There's no reaction until Beca breaks into a grin that doesn't quite make it to her eyes.  "Well, that won't happen here," she says gesturing between us. 

 

I grab her hand and kiss her palm.  "So, that's always in the back of my head, but it's kind of unfair to you.  You've never given me any reason to doubt you but I did anyway. A-And I can't tell you how very sorry I am. I just felt all those things creeping back up, you know?" 

 

"Chloe, look at me." She turns my head to her. "You're it for me.". Her lips graze mine softly.  Barely there. "If you’d ask me a million times, I’d choose you everytime. For the rest of my life. And I will always protect you and us. Fiercely." 

 

I feel Beca's hands thread through my hair as I draw closer to her, nuzzling her collarbone and her neck, but I can tell she's still miles away.

 

“Hey, where are you, Becs?"

 

"Do you remember that afternoon?"

I hum a response that's non-committal.  I know it was Beca's frustration talking and I know she'd never physically lay hand on me with anything other than loving intentions, but I still try not to think about it.  

 

She takes the words out of my mouth when she tells me that the moment makes her sick.  Beca's touches are sweet and gentle -- when she brushes her hand against mine and lets it linger, the trail of her fingers across my back  when she sneaks by me in the kitchen, when I wake up with her arms wrapped around me, or the feel of her legs smoothing over mine when we lie together -- but still so laden and heavy with the overwhelming love and tenderness she has to give.  I could drown in it and be perfectly fine. So, to associate the feel of her body on mine with anything other than want and need is unsettling to say the least. 

 

Beca looks so lost and broken that I wonder of I'll ever be able to find her again.

 

"I don't know what came over me, Chloe.  You have to know that. It was a moment of...I don't know, but I keep replaying it over and over in my head and it feels like an out of body experience.  That wasn't me."

 

"I know, baby."  I grip her bicep to ground her and stop her from spiraling into regret.  "I know. And I think it's good we talked about this, but maybe now we can just - "

 

I'm exhausted.  It's been a lot of work now and leading up until now to just pack this away and try to leave it in the past, back in LA.  And here we are, bringing it all out into the open again. I know it needed to be done for both of our sakes. We’re getting married.  We’re starting our future together. We can’t have this existing between us. 

 

But.

 

Going back to it, shredded already new tender skin that was starting to take shape over the old wound. 

 

I know Beca’s questioning it too - whether it was right to awaken it to kill it, or just to let it slumber.  She kisses me. Hard. But I’m surprised that I don’t find any evidence of doubt on her lips. Instead, I feel her need for us to be whole again.  I can feel her hot tears against my cheeks. I hate seeing Beca cry. 

 

She pulls back.  "I don't just love you.  You know that right? I need you.  I want you. All the time. All of this - me - is nothing without you. You are...everything and everywhere, and -" 

 

I take her face in my hands and kiss her back.  In part to stop her rambling, but more because I can't bear to be this way with her anymore.  I just want to reach into our chests and pop the release valves that will alleviate the pressure and send all of the hurt and guilt and regret that we're harboring far away into the ether; send  us back to normal, to a time when that name didn't settle in our stomach and push the bile into the back of our throats.

 

Beca collapses into me and I drop us both back onto the towels.  Our faces our streaked with tears, but there's a new lightness between us.

 

She notices me looking at her and a small smile creeps across her lips.  "What?" she asks giving me a quick peck.

 

"Nothing." I prop myself up on my elbows and lean over her.  "Just looking at your freckles." I trace my fingertip down the slope of her nose and across the soft, smooth skin on her cheeks.  Then, I peck her back.

 

She laughs -- full-on, deep Beca laugh that I've missed -- and I let her push me off her and into the sand.

 

Her hands are in my hair.  My arms are wrapped around her.  I squeeze her to get her as close to me as possible, drawing a squeak from her before she squirms on top of me to fit our bodies together.

 

That is how we spend the rest of the afternoon, pressed together, chests rising and falling together, tangled in each other.  We drift in and out of consciousness, waking to spread soft, slow kisses and touches over every expanse of skin. Forgiving and moving on. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for hot, wet and sexy. 
> 
> Here it is. 
> 
> Hot (hopefully). Wet (definitely!). Sexy (you'll tell me).

I’m not a diva by any stretch, but I can’t warm up to the idea of an outside shower.  

 

“Trust me, Chlo.  You’re gonna love this.  It’s really refreshing. And anyway, you’re covered with sand.  You can’t go inside like that.” 

 

She hands me a towel and takes my hand to guide me into the shower stall.   It’s pristine, but rustic - a basic shower head, wood walls, exposed pipes, and no fancy fixtures. 

 

Beca starts the water and begins to strip down, peeling her wet suit from her body.  I can’t help but watch and I’m not at all subtle about it, so it’s no surprise that Beca catches me looking. 

 

“Hey dude, this isn’t free porn weekend on Cinemax,” she says, gesturing down her form. 

 

“What if I buy you dinner?  Are the goodies free then?”

 

Beca has an incredibly beautiful body.  She’s petite, but toned and every part of her is firm, yet she’s still soft and incredibly huggable, though she’ll deny that up and down.  But, it’s no wonder why my eyes continue to rake her up and down as she considers my offer. 

 

“Hmmm, what if you take me to dinner, but you first let me strip you naked?” 

 

“Let me get you started,” I offer as I reach behind my head and yank one of the strings to undo the knot responsible for holding up my bikini top. 

 

I feel her hands at my back, fumbling with the other tie that will completely free me from my top.  

 

Her mouth is otherwise occupied, sucking at the skin across the expanse of my neck and chest.  I throw my head back to give her more room to work and she backs me into the shower stream, stopping to watch the water run over my bare breasts and drip off my nipples. 

 

“So fucking sexy,” she grunts and bends to capture one in between her lips, swirling her tongue over it to draw it out and then tugging at it with her teeth.

 

Even though Beca knows the sensation of having my nipples played with is enough to make me come, she’s not being gentle and she’s not relenting.  The only respite I get is when she relinquishes one breast in favor of the other. 

 

I think the only thing hotter is watching her suck on me -- the way her mouth moves, the way her lips and tongue taunt and tease, the way she tilts her head to draw me in deeper, moaning as she does.

 

It all works together to work me up faster than expected and suddenly, my hips are jerking involuntarily. 

 

Beca looks up at me expectantly, holding eye contact as she circles her tongue around pebbled skin, licking up my hard nipple and then putting her whole mouth over it. 

 

I can’t help but reach down between my legs, but Beca instinctively knows and swats my hand away.  

 

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.”    
  
“Then come,” she mumbles with my breast still in her mouth. 

 

Her thumb and forefinger come up to tease my other nipple, flipping a switch that elicits a long, low, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” from me before my entire body tenses.

 

“Did you?”   
  
I nod and slump my head on Beca’s shoulder.  She pecks me on the cheek as she reaches around for a soft sponge and body wash that she works into a thick lather.  I feel it dripping down my shoulders and my back.

 

Then, Beca turns me, wrapping a supportive arm around my waist while she washes down the rest of my body, kissing my neck and my back as she does.  Gently, she guides me under the spray, using her hand to caress the suds away. 

 

The shower is completely filled with steam, swirled by the occasional humid breeze that wafts up under the stall.  That coupled with our heavy make-out session is actually doing more to work me up into a sweaty frenzy than to get me clean. 

 

My hand reaches back to pull Beca into a slow, lazy kiss that seems to get deeper and deeper -- both of us willingly foregoing the need for oxygen and just relishing her rough tongue against mine.  

 

Without breaking the kiss, Beca takes a step or two back forcing me to turn and follow her.  She pulls my hips into hers, essentially pinning herself against the wall. It’s only then that she pushes me back with some force and looks me straight in the eye. “Fuck me, Chlo.  Fuck me hard.” 

 

I scratch my nails down her back and grab her ass as I kiss her again. It’s messy and sloppy, but she doesn’t seem to notice because my finger is at her entrance, teasing.   

 

“I don’t think you’re ready for me yet, baby,” I say, dropping to my knees and pulling Beca over me to straddle my face.

 

She parts her pussy lips for me exposing her clit, and I waste no time drawing it into my mouth.  I’m gentle with it at first, stroking it with my tongue, but when I feel Beca start to grind against me, I start to work her harder, faster. 

 

Again, I reach around her back and trace a fingertip over her slit, confirming that I’ve worked her up quickly. 

 

My hands go to her hips, guiding her backwards so I can stand.  “Turn around and face the wall.” 

 

Beca does as she’s told and I follow closely behind her.  Our bodies instantly turn cold now that we’re away from the shower spray. The change in temperature makes my nipples stiffen against her back and I swallow a deep moan.

 

I thread my arms up through hers, gripping her shoulders to keep her in place as I graze my hardened peaks up and down her back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.  

 

“Chloe, please.” 

 

“What, baby?” 

 

Beca shudders as I draw my nipples down her back.  “I’m so f-f-fucking turned on, I can’t...I can’t see straight.”  Her head knocks against the side of the shower and it would almost be funny if I didn’t know how horny she really is. 

 

I take pity on her and take one hand from her shoulder to wrap around her waist, holding her against me.  My other hand finds its way down Beca’s side and settles on her lower back, pushing her to bend forward slightly, her arms crossed in front of her to give her a place to rest her head. 

 

My mouth finds the shell of her ear and her neck as I nestle two fingers in between her ass cheeks before sliding them forward to find her slit.

 

She’s dripping wet and so open that two fingers quickly become three fucking her from behind -- her pushing off the wall, against my fingers and further into me to get me deeper and deeper.

 

The hand on her waist slips down her stomach and she spreads her legs so that I can rub her clit. 

 

Outside, we can hear the traffic, families leaving the beach and the next door neighbors getting drunk as they bar-b-que.   I think the thrill of getting fucked without the complete privacy of an indoor shower (or frankly anywhere inside) only amps up Beca’s arousal.  

 

Of course, that’s probably helped along by the fact that I have slid Beca’s clit between my two fingers, scissoring it, and rocking it back and forth.  “Oh fuuuuck, Chlo. That feels...it’s so goddamn go-good.” Her hips jerk, totally out of her control.

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“God, yeah.  Yes!” 

 

I suddenly have an uncontrollable urge to be close to Beca.  To kiss Beca. It seems selfish, but seeing her so aroused, knowing what I do to her and how much she trusts me to do those things is an indescribable turn on so I withdraw my fingers from her to turn her to me, plunging my tongue into her mouth as I continue to rock her clit. 

 

She’s so sensitive, and I know her instinct is to back her hips away so I can’t touch her, but I also know she wants to, needs to come.  Her moans are getting louder and more desperate, and I’m certain that if we can hear the conversations of our next-door neighbors enjoying their dinner, they can totally hear us -- or more accurately, Beca. 

 

I pull away from her clit.  She winces and whines at the lack of contact.  “Chlooooo, what the…?” 

 

Before she can finish her sentence, my hands grip under her thighs to pull her up.  She wraps her legs around my waist and I back us up to pin her against the shower wall again. With Beca pinned there, I can reach a hand down between us to lavish attention back on her swollen clit before I sink inside her -- the position leaving her open and allowing for long, deep thrusts. 

 

Beca’s head rests against my shoulder as she rides my fingers and I can feel her tongue and teeth, nipping at the thin skin there.  

 

One of her arms is draped around my neck, her delicate fingers pressing into the skin on my back.  Their touch is electrifying. It’s almost as if I can feel every ridge of every fingerprint dragging over me, so it takes me a few seconds to realize where her other hand is headed.

 

Before I can respond, she spreads my pussy lips, dipping a finger inside me to drag my wetness up to my clit.  “Beca,” I gasp out, but I don’t have the energy or the presence of mind to say more before I’m grinding into her hand. 

 

My mouth is back on hers, kissing her hard and I feel her tongue tense against mine when her pussy clenches around my fingers.  It takes all the strength I can muster to stay inside her as she comes, despite the uncontrollable jerk of her hips and the way her walls tighten. 

 

I come at nearly the exactly same time as Beca - my climax hitting much harder than I anticipated - and I feel her panting on my chest as she watches me under her touch, stroking me down. 

 

I sigh.  We wrap our arms around each other, pulling our bodies close together and back under the warm shower stream, the water instantly relaxing us.

 

Heated skin against heated skin has never felt so damn good, and I think I’m officially a fan of outside showers.


	6. Chapter 6

I wake up on my stomach with the early morning sun poking in through the blinds, making me squint even through the veil of hair that’s fallen onto my face. I blindly reach an arm over to Beca’s side, but it’s empty.  
  
It’s only then that I feel the sheet pull back and feel the cool air hit my naked form. Before I can turn my head, I feel the mattress sink down and Beca tucks into my side, pushing the hair out of my face. “It’s not fair that you wake up looking like this.”   
  
I bring my arms up over the pillow and rest my head, looking up at Beca. “How do I look?”   
  
“C’mon, Chlo. Don’t be a master baiter.” Beca immediately laughs at her own joke. I roll my eyes at her and the fact that sometimes it feels like I’m marrying a 13-year old boy. “Hot, Chlo. You look hot.” She shifts to kiss my bare shoulder and it’s only then I realize she’s naked as well. Skin on skin surging the same feeling through me that I felt when we were in the outside shower together. Her fingers are in my hair, pushing it off my neck to kiss me there and I don’t hold back the groan that comes out -- a lot louder than I expected.   
  
Beca chuckles softly and continues to work her lips across my shoulder blades and down my back, her hands trailing closely behind.   
  
I feel her hitch a leg over my hips and she settles herself right above my ass, softly kissing and touching the expanse of my back and my sides.   
  
“I love you, almost-wife,” she whispers against my skin. Her soft lips and even softer breath against me send a shiver down my spine and I let myself relax into her touch, surrendering fully to her.  
  
It’s hard to tell where this will lead, but I’m perfectly fine if there’s no sex involved. Beca’s caresses are so loving and loaded with emotion. It’s a different kind of intimacy between us, and while the orgasms Beca gives me are...mindblowing, it’s almost more sensual when she’s this way with me. It’s a side of her that is reserved only for me and it’s really all I’ll ever need from her.   
  
“Baby, you feel so good.”   
  
Beca hums in agreement but doesn’t break the trail of kisses that she’s dotting down my spine -- alternating between chaste, but lingering presses of her lips to more passionate open mouth licks and sucks.   
  
But nothing rises to the level of turning me on or making me wet. I’m just so lost in the way she is mapping my body, treating it with such care, such reverence, feeling her breath against me, and the weight of her breasts on my back.  
  
I flinch when Beca drops down between my legs, kissing up my inner thighs, even placing a soft kiss between my legs. My muscle memory of having her there time after time over the last week ignites an automatic roll my hips against the mattress, and she looks up at me questioning whether I want her to continue. I just shake my head and reach for her hand to lace our fingers together.  
  
She continues administering her affections up over the tops of my thighs to the small of my back. Her fingers trace the dimples there, making me wiggle a little under her touch.  
  
“Ticklish?”  
  
I softly swat her hand away. “Yes, you know that. You're doing it on purpose.”  
  
She withdraws her hand.  
  
“Sorry.”   
  
I reach behind me and return her hand to my back. “I didn't say stop.” I shoot her a wink and can't look away when she smiles, smoothing the flat of her hand over my skin.  
  
“I love when you touch me, Beca,” I say dreamily.  
  
“I love to touch you, Chloe,” and she drops more slow, warm kisses across my lower back, to my side and down my thigh, stopping at the back of my knee.  
  
I inhale sharply when she suckles the skin there and then strokes it with her tongue. It’s a sensation I've never felt before - erotic and sensual but sweet and intimate - and it sends a shockwave throughout my entire body.  
  
“B-Bec-Beca, what are you doing to me?” I can't believe she has the ability to work me up like this.  
  
But Beca doesn't answer. Her mouth is too busy working the skin there and I probably should be embarrassed at the gutteral moan that she draws from me, but there's too much pleasure rocketing through me to leave room for any other emotion.  
  
I bury my face in the pillow, trying not to drive my hips into the mattress to relieve the pressure building there. The fact that the pillow case smells distinctly like Beca isn't helping. Neither is the fact that her hands are on my calf muscle, kneeding it just to watch it tense.  
  
“Chlo, your body is...mmmm,” Beca whispers before nipping at my lower leg.  
  
I reach down to tangle my fingers with hers, playing with them and the spaces between them. “I could say the same abo-ow!” Im more surprised than in pain when Beca bites my Achilles. “Oh! Oh, god!”  
  
She snaps back, eyes wide, yanking her hand from mine to massage over the teeth marks. “Did I... I'm sorry, babe.”  
  
I am completely turned on and out of breath when I push her head back down. “No. No..keep going. It just -- I've never had anyone do that to me before. It was good. So good.”  
  
Beca bites down again, softer this time, sucking at the flesh on either side of the tendon. It triggers a reflex that automatically flexes my foot and tenses my calf muscle, prompting Beca to massage back up my leg.  
  
She completely avoids lavishing any attention on my pussy - she has this whole time - but I can feel my swollen clit against the sheet beneath me and the urge to slide my hand between my legs becomes even more tempting when I think about Beca watching.  
  
When she straddles my hips and presses the front of her flat against my back, her hands gliding over my arms to hold my hands, I think I might explode.  
  
She feels me tilt my hips; it's hard to ignore.  
  
“Baby?”  
  
I rock against the sheets a few times.   
  
“Babe, what are you - did you come?”  
  
All I can do is nod against the pillow.  
  
“You came from that?”  
  
“Don't gloat, Mitchell.”  
  
“I'm not, but shit, that has to be one of the sexiest things I think I've ever seen.”  
“Hmm. Not sure it holds a candle to us both finger fucking you on the beach the other day.” I roll over under Beca. “THAT was sexy.”  
  
“Let's just call it even,” she says leaning down for a long, sweet kiss that curls my toes.  
  
XXX  
  
Since Beca was responsible for the variation on my workout routine this morning, I decide to take a walk on the beach to round out my cardio for the day.  
  
It's late afternoon. Most people have gone home to get ready for dinner, but this is my favorite time to be at the beach since is cooler and the sun is less intense.  
  
It takes some goading and some convincing to get Beca to come with, but eventually she lets me pull her up from her towel and agrees to a walk.  
  
I'm not sure how long we’ve walked, but the time and distance has flown by, sped along by teasing chases and splashes, lingering touches and loving gazes.  
  
Before I know it, we are in a cove, surrounded by high dunes on two sides, a long jetty on the other that juts far out into the waves and the ocean in front of us. I stop to look at the shells abandoned by the last tide and beca pounces on top of me, lowering us both into the wet sand.  
  
The remnants of an ebbing wave distract her and I flip us. I'm tucked into her side, the top half of my body draped over hers. As she lifts her head and shoulders to kiss me, I tightened my grip on her, our lips moving together.  
  
It is a scene right out of From Here to Eternity as another wave crashes against us and rolls us, but never breaks our kiss.  
  
The sand is warm against my back and the feel of Beca’s full weight on top of me is like being wrapped up in a security blanket.  
  
Her body is flecked with sand - it's in her hair, dotted on her long, dark eyelashes and scattered across her cheeks. I feel the grit when my hands grip her shoulders to pull her down to me. She looks so perfect - so rough and raw, but gorgeous and I think I fall a bit more in love with her.  
  
I can barely breathe from the heat that rises up between us, from the way Beca stills us when another wave tries to pry us apart.  
  
Her hands smooth over the top of my head and brush away the wet strands that stick to my cheeks. Her gaze is so loving and earnest. I can only seem to break away when I feel her tongue on my lips that I know are swollen and lose myself in the feel of her against me.  
  
My fingers itch to touch her, and as if she can read my mind she takes my hands in hers, guiding them under the hem of her t-shirt. I slink up her sides, tightening around her ribs and give her a squeeze.  
  
She squirms and throws her head back, laughing and I can't think of anything more beautiful than being at the beach, wrapped up with her.  
  
“You’re so gorgeous, Bec.”  
  
Then she folds into me and I feel her breath in my ear, her words against my neck.  
  
“Take me to bed, baby.”

Her words are the perfect end to a perfect week.  And the perfect beginning...


End file.
